Just a Look
by TisUnfortunateThatTheyWrite
Summary: Italy visits Germany's place for a surprise visit. However he discovers that his friend isn't home.. or so he thought.


Italy closed the front door quietly, determined to make sure his surprise visit to Germany's remained one. Stealthily he hung his coat up and put his grocery bags down before venturing into the German's house. He looked in the living room, and his kitchen. He wasn't in his basement and his dogs were all playing outside; Italy couldn't figure out where the German could be. ' _I didn't check to see if he was busy today, so maybe he's not home_ ' he thought as he walked up the stairs, careful not to creak the steps he knew all too well.

Once he reached the top step he wondered if he was in his room. It was the last place to check other than the bathroom and the Italian knew he wasn't there because the door was open. So he crept up to the door of his bedroom and stopped, he could hear soft spoken voices, one he recognized as Germany's and the other...

Italy put his back to the side of the wall, the door slightly ajar. He listened intently.

"Still okay?" Spoke one of them, it was clear that that low voice belonged to the tall Russian man that Italy couldn't help but be intimidated by.

Italy recognized the breathy response that emitted from the German's mouth and suddenly he realized what was going on. He covered his mouth at the revelation and dared not to make a noise lest they heard him.

"Good." Russia sounded different too. Himself, yet something about his voice, Italy couldn't deny part of him almost wondered if he liked that tone, wanted to hear it directed at himself, maybe. He felt his heart race as he heard the stifled noise that came out of Germany's mouth, obviously muffled by a pillow.

There was shifting and rustling noises and suddenly Italy found himself wanting to look into the room, feeling too curious to just listen to the scandalous scene. He made sure not to show his face too much but he caught a glimpse of the two and he was glad he did. Russia was above Germany, kissing and biting his neck and Germany, as needy for attention as he was, leaned into the Russian's touches, like he was desperate for it. When Russia pulled away he gave Germany a kiss on the lips and Italy watched as the Russian's hands glided along the German's body.

They were still clothed, but their clothes were messy, ruffled. Italy wondered what on earth led them to this point, but he wasn't going to ask them either.

Germany pulled away from the kiss, his eyes closed tightly, ' _of cours_ e' Italy thought and he couldn't help smiling at the familiar reaction. Russia began to kiss Germany's chest, playing with Germany's nipples. Italy noticed that they were grinding and at this point he had to pull himself away because the view was too much to look at. Shamefully, the Italian noticed the change in himself, he seemed to actually be enjoying this display. He wasn't sure if he should have left, but he missed the feeling of Germany around him and seeing him like that, with Russia no less, sparked forgotten feelings in him. Italy moved his own hands under his shirt, touching his chest just as Russia touched Germany's.

"R-Russland please.." Germany breathed out, Italy stopped and listened. " _Pleas_ e, just- I can't."

"You want more?"

"You know what I want"

There was a small silence, but Germany's unapproving grunt told him that Russia smiled at him.

"Come _on_."

"I cannot give you what you want Germaniya.." A loud kiss, "unless you tell me."

The German's pained silence reminded Italy of his embarrassment when Italy spoke of those same obscenities, of making him admit he wanted to have him.

"Can you please just _touc_ h me, God you're driving me crazy-!" Germany let out a half moan. Italy felt a wave of arousal at that, nothing was more satisfying than hearing Germany's response to any touches at all. Imagining whatever Russia did was making the Italian's mind go mad.

"Like this.. maybe?"

Italy didn't know if he was curious or desperate enough to look again, to see where Russia's hands were. The risk of getting caught was high enough already.

The sound of moving came again but Germany's breathing seemed to be hitched and Italy was sure he was holding his breath to stop his mouth from shaming him again.

"Lyubov, I need an answer."

"Yes- yes, continue, bitte."

They continued on, hearing the sounds of kissing on soft skin and rustling of fabric Italy moved to look again, hoping he would get some more.

They hadn't moved much but Russia had his hands _on_ Germany, slow strokes which were making Germany squirm under his grasp. It was tantalisingly slow yet Italy knew under the gritted teeth and furrowed brows, that Germany loved it. Italy moved his own hands and he found himself enjoying the scene more than he'd care to admit. He was jealous, but of whoom he wasn't sure.

"Clothes off." Russia demanded, and Germany did so. It was obvious who was in charge here, the dominant one being Russia and Italy couldn't help but think of how hot it was. Hot and intimidating. While Germany took off his clothes Russia grabbed a container of what could only be lubricant and poured some onto a few of his fingers.

Quietly, Germany said " So demanding..." and he smirked at the Russian. Italy was lost again in the scene, he no longer cared if it was indecent to watch them. His mind was preoccupied with making his hands touch his own body, arousal rising within him with each stroke.

"You like it." Russia purred as he pulled Germany in for a kiss. One hand on his chin, drawing him in and the other gliding down towards his cheeks. Germany gasped when he suddenly felt Russia's hand stop at his hole. Russia chuckled as he kissed Germany's neck, tracing his free hand down his back and stroking circles around his entrance. "Such a pretty man can't go unteased, da?"

Germany didn't have a response, only heavy breathing and shuddering seemed to be his reply. Russia poked a finger into him but only a part, and Italy watched as Germany struggled to maintain his composure. Russia took his finger out again, and put it back in repeating the movements until Germany could no longer help push himself down against the Russian's hand.

This wouldn't do however. Russia bit onto the skin of Germany's neck and Germany stopped moving and moaned deeply in response, his face ran red and Italy's hair stood on end.

"Did I say you could do that?"

Germany didn't respond for a second but he murmured a "no".

Russia wasn't satisfied, he slapped a hand down onto Germany's thigh and clung to his skin. Germany yelped, the stinging pain appeared to be both sharp yet sweet.

"No sir!" Germany's cried loudly, his strong voice rang in Italy's ears.

Russia smiled slightly against Germany's neck.

"Better." The Russia continued what he was doing. "You will learn to be patient, mal'chik. If I have to make you, I will." He pushed his finger even deeper into Germany and the German's body shook violently, his breath shuddered and his toes curled. Italy stopped touching himself, his eyes glued to Russia's hand, to Germany's face, to Russia's curled grin. Germany dared not to move onto his finger again, and Russia rewarded his patience with a second finger.

Italy bit his lip and his eyes narrowed, he desperately wanted to be a part of it all, to be enveloped in all of the lust they were feeling but he knew he could only enjoy it like this, watching from the sidelines. He pulled away for a moment and realised how much he was sweating under his clothes. Would he even be able to get off in the hallway? Was this behaviour worth getting caught and possibly getting him in trouble? To hell with it he thought. If Russia was going to fuck Germany with his fingers then why the hell should he have to suffer, wanting Germany as badly as he already did.

Italy moved to look into the room but this time he found himself locking eyes with Russia who's eyebrows raised when he saw the little Italian in the door. Italy felt his heart pound against his chest, his heart could have fallen out of his mouth the fear he felt so intense. But he relaxed slightly when the Russian winked at him, as if a signal that he was free to stay. He stopped again, however, and Germany groaned in response, groggily kissing his lips in an attempt to get Russia to do more.

"Why'd you stop.." The German breathed, he was breathless and his voice was low, and Italy hid again hoping to God he could get out of this without being seen again.

"I want to try blindfolding you. It will make things feel... better."

"But there's no need, I-"

"Hush Germaniya. You'll do as I want, won't you?"

Germany sighed and the sound of moving returned, the opening of a drawer and the loud squeak of a bed being sat on.

"Is that good?"

"Sure."

"Excuse me?" The Russian's voice held a dangerous tone, almost playful in nature.

"I meant, yes sir."

There was the sound of fabric moving again and suddenly Italy saw Russia's trousers fly past his head and onto the floor near him in the hall.

"Hey! Did you just-!"

"Shhh, relax, I will be picking them up later."

Italy felt his heart calm down at the sudden flight of clothing, but he realised that Russia wasn't switching things up for no reason. Italy dared to look again and he saw Germany's spine arched as he was fingered by Russia, his panting was loud and his mind seemed to be gone. Russia didn't look towards the door, but he was rather focused on getting Germany to be as loud as possible. He was such an ass, Italy knew he was doing this for show if not for himself.

Russia pushed his fingers into Germany as deeply as possible and it showed. Germany was unhinged, a breathy moaning mess, Italy wasn't sure whether he could even talk. But as always Germany was full of surprises.

"F-fill me up." Italy's eyes widened, he was not expecting the German to be so vocal.

"Hmm?" Russia stopped, leaving his fingers buried inside Germany, wiggling them ever so slightly.

"Please sir, I need you to fuck me."

"Are you sure?" Russia smiled at the blindfolded man, dripping in sweat. He thrusted his fingers in and out of Germany one more time, and the German did his best to stifle his moan, although failing. "You can't last much longer like this?"

"Russia, I need...this is too much-!"

Germany stopped when he felt Russia grab his dick. He wasn't gentle and the intense feeling was almost over powering for the German. He fell forward, gripping Russia's shoulders tightly. The Russian gave him a quick stroke and let go, Germany instinctively bucking his hips forward.

"You really can't handle much more can you?"

"N-no.." Germany shuddered.

Russia reached over to the bed-side table and grabbed a condom, glancing very briefly at the door, but not specifically at Italy. Italy hadn't realised, but now that he was looking at Russia he noticed just how _big_ he was; he was unsure of whether or not he was surprised, but he certainly wished he could do him a favour. The Italian was too engrossed to care about being caught anymore, and, considering Russia had already let him stay, he didn't want to look away again. After Russia rolled the condom onto himself he slapped Germany's thighs twice, Germany straightened his back and sat up straight, as if listening for a command.

"Good to go?"

"Yes." There was a hesitation "Sir..."

Without further delay Russia lowered Germany's body onto himself, slowly. Germany hissed at first and Russia went slower, but once Germany was past the head he almost fell towards Russia's base. Russia giggled to himself and held onto Germany's ass as he lifted him up and down. Germany helped, using his legs to lift his body when Russia pulled him up, although it didn't take long for his pace to quicken. Italy had returned to touching himself, almost in tune with Russia and Germany's movements.

"F-uck.." Germany breathed through clenched teeth. Italy shuddered whilst staring at his body, to him Germany was godlike, akin to Grecian gods; powerful but beautiful; stunning. He never thought twice about how much he sexualized the German.

Russia had started digging his nails into Germany's skin, as a sign that it wouldn't be long before they swapped into a different position. When Germany felt the biting feeling of Russia's nails going into him he fell as he tried to lift himself up; he dropped onto Russia who hissed at the quick movement. Russia didn't pick him up again, Germany's panting the only thing that filled the room. Italy for a moment felt nervous, wondering if they had stopped or not. He almost retracted himself when Russia spoke up again.

"Germaniya, off me, turn around and stay on your knees." Germany got off of Russia and had his back face the Russian. Russia sat up and held one of Germany's arms behind his back. It looked painful, but at the same time Italy was sure Germany would have made it clear if Russia was being too forceful. Instead a pleasing hiss came out of him and Italy wished to God that it was him forcing those sounds out of the German.

"W-wait.."

Russia slightly loosened his pull on Germany's arm.

"Something wrong?" His brows furrowed.

"I.." He shuddered and leaned backwards into Russia's erection. "Don't hold back."

Russia smiled, his hands tightened around Germany's wrist and Italy watched as Russia rubbed himself against Germany's cheeks.

"I won't." The Russian's cool attitude made Italy tremble with anticipation.

Germany was in the palm of his hand, and Russia made sure he knew it too. Gently yet hastily the Russian pushed himself into Germany, as deeply as he could manage and Germany gasped at the pain of taking on his full length. Russia fucked him deeply, but not quickly, his pace was almost too slow. Even so the German attempted to quicken the pace pushing himself against Russia a little quicker than Russia was thrusting.

Suddenly a free hand grabbed Germany's throat and Germany almost choked in surprise as his neck was forced backwards towards Russia.

" _What_ did I say about patience. Did I say you could change the pace?" Russia's breath heated up Germany's ear, and Italy saw his cock twitch upwards. Russia's hands tightened, everything was still for a moment.

"No sir."

"Seems like I need to show you what happens when you try to go against my word."

"But-"

Without a seconds wait Russia dragged his nails down Germany's chest and bit onto his ear. Italy could have sworn that Germany's moan shook the room, it was stunningly loud, even for Germany. He fell against Russia, like a limp doll, his body failed to hold him up and the Russian had to hold the German tightly. Before Germany could say anything Italy watched as Russia thrust deeply into him and Italy held his breath as Germany yelped. Russia was clearly not in the business of playing games.

"Maybe if you" Russia dug his nails into Germany's arm. "listened to me.. you would not need to suffer." He leaned in to Germany's ear again so that his breath wet his ear. "But no. Gremaniya just cannot follow orders _all_ the time. Can you?"

"I'll b-behave.."

Russia narrowed his eyes for a moment and grinned. He slid his hand down to his cock and started stroking him as he fucked his ass. Germany, failing to keep quiet, moved into Russia's strokes, out of tune with Russia rhythm. Russia's speed quickened and Germany moved his free hand onto Russia's body, curling his fingers into his skin. Italy felt himself get closer as he stroked himself off, release was so close yet he didn't want to finish before either of them did. He kept stroking himself until he almost reached orgasm, his own breathing got visibly louder despite trying his best to stay quiet. As Italy edged himself his returned his focus onto the men, Russia's strokes got quicker and quicker and suddenly, as Germany breathed out an "oh god I'm so close", he stopped, moving his hand away quickly.

"Bend down." Russia barked, letting go of Germany's wrist.

Without a seconds pause Germany lowered his body so that his hands were holding his chest up and once he was in place Russia thrusted into him sharply, forcing a moan out of Germany. Their movements were quick and aggressive, Germany's face covered in both tears and sweat, breathing out "fuck" and "don't stop" on occasion. Russia leaned over him, and pulled at his hair, lifting his head back so that he could moan loudly without a second thought. Sometimes Russia would force himself in as deeply as possible in one thrust and continue fucking him hurriedly.

Italy watched as Germany became more and more dishevelled, the harder Russia fucked him. He wasn't even speaking clearly anymore, not when Russia raked his nails through Germany's skin leaving trails of pink behind them. The marks left behind on Germany only spurred Italy on, bringing him closer to his release.

He pulled away from the scene again and pressed his back against the wall. He thought of how he wanted Germany's hands on him, of his needyness to have Italy. He thought of Russia fucking him mercilessly too and before he realized it he came. Filled with ecstasy, Italy whined quietly, wishing to god that he didn't have to be so quiet, but he knew better and as he stroked himself dry his pants returned, but now relaxed. His vision had become unclear and for a moment he forgot where he was as his vision returned and his focus came back.

He looked down at himself, his come was both on him and on the floor. He remembered a tissue he had in his pocket and hurriedly cleaned up thankful for the coincidental tissue.

Italy for a split second wondered if he should continue watching but he was already glued to the scene again. He had been so distracted by his own orgasm that he hadn't noticed Germany's moans becoming more muffled. Russia was forcing the side of his face into the bed, leaning over his body, forcing him down under his weight. Germany didn't look like he'd be lasting much longer under the Russian's iron grip, his hands, dug into the covers, proved this much. Russia almost looked relaxed aside from his mouth breathing breaths that were overshadowed by Germany's moans. He had marked Germany so much his skin was pink, almost raw. An especially hard slap of skin made the German yelp again, his fast panting and moaning could only have made his mouth dry.

"Van," Germany breathed. "I-I'm-!"

Russia didn't seem to slow down and Italy watched as Germany reached his climax. There was a build up of pants, the clenching of his fists in the fabric and the low moan that rang out through the room, the most intimate, familiar noise, that Italy could remember. He watched as Germany raised his ass up into Russia's thrusts, coming onto the bed as he raised his tear covered face out of the covers.

His expression and his raw skin conveyed his submission, and with biting teeth he let out one last moan as Russia climaxed. Italy saw his face as if Russia was clenching his teeth, he frowned as he came and his hand lightened it's push on the German's head. The Russian's response was quiet and his composure was not swayed as he thrusted the last few times into Germany. With a sigh he kissed the top of Germany's back before sliding himself out of him. For a moment Russia looked over to the door, but Italy had pulled himself away from the scene. Despite finishing himself off earlier his heart was still racing. He tidied up his appearance as quietly as possible while he listened to them.

"Lyublov, are you still alive?" He cooed.

There was quiet, and then the distant sound of moving fabric, Italy was almost startled by Russia's breathless laugh.

"Slowly then. Take your time."

Italy decided it was time he left before he could be caught again and he headed down the stairs as quietly as possible.

"Enjoy the show?"

Italy, startled, spun his head round to look at Russia who was standing behind him in the doorway to the living room. He had a smug look on his face, that of someone who won a bet. Italy furrowed his brows and continued to put his gloves on.

"Oh, the cat has your tongue hmm?" Russia chuckled as he approached the Italian who dared not to look or speak to him. "How long were you sitting there Italian?"

Italy ignored him and stood up. Silently he made his way to the hall, behind Russia.

"Italy, if you ignore me I can't promise I'll keep this secret between us."

Shit, of course the bastard wasn't going to just let him go. Frustrated but compliant Italy turned around and faced Ivan, who was now in a tank top and underwear.

"What do you want me to say?" He said monotonously. "That I liked watching you fuck my ex? That I liked watching him get so... like that?"

"Yes actually." He smiled, Italy would have cursed if he didn't know better. Fortunately he did.

"Well.. I did. Can I go home now? I've got nothing to do here."

"Hmm, wait a couple hours, maybe he'll be ready for another round."

Italy glared at Russia as he smiled at him, the _nerve._ He turned around, swiftly moving towards the door and opened it. He couldn't bare seeing Russia so proud of himself.

"Hey."

Italy turned and looked at him, suddenly serious and surprisingly warm in his stare.

"I can tell him you stopped by?"

Italy looked at him quietly a moment before looking down.

"Just leave it. Please. I'm going home." He looked up at Russia and nodded at him. Surprisingly he nodded back and Italy shut the door quietly and left.

Forgetting his bags in the hall.


End file.
